Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape
Whelp II - The Wrath of Snape
Chapter Twenty-four
By jharad17
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or settings or anything. They all belong to JKRowling. Don't believe me? Compare her bank account to mine.
Previously on 'Whelp II -- the Wrath of Snape':
'But there is no way, short of Merlin, that I will require he make the decision now,' he said softly. 'Do not fear, Harry, I will not force you to do
As the boy relaxed slightly into Severus' arms, he knew it had been the right thing to say. Both he and Harry had spent their childhood -- and he, much of his adulthood -- being forced to do one thing or another, on threat of beatings, torture or abandonment. In Severus' case, it was hard to know which of those was worst. Though many young children required the threat of punishment to obey, Harry did not. The boy already knew to his bones that disobedience for the least thing meant pain, but Severus wanted his son to learn to spread his wings and take chances, to learn that not everything meant as a suggestion was an order, and that he could do what he wanted . . . within acceptable bounds, of course.
He and Dumbledore spoke for a while longer, discussing when exactly Severus would return to work and how much he had to do to return his classroom to rights. Harry was exhausted, no doubt about it, mostly due to his nightmares and the tension of the last week of wondering when or where Black might show his ugly mug. The boy continued to cling to his 'Daddy' even as he eased into sleep.
Severus was
That felt good.
A year ago, he would have sneered at the very idea. He would have railed against the possibility that a child would call him Father, never mind Daddy. He had given up all hope of such an occurrence, in fact, when the only love of his life gave birth, ten months after marrying James Potter.
And now he had Harry. A still-stick-thin boy who looked far younger than his seven years. A clingy little thing, with luminous green eyes, wary eyes. Hopeful eyes. A boy who trusted him, for no reason he could see, except that he had shown the boy kindness instead of cruelty. Warmth instead of cold disdain. Love, instead of antipathy.
He loved his son.
The thought hit him so profoundly it was almost frightening. And yet, a pervasive sense of peace swelled up to spread through Severus Snape, filling him and overflowing his heart, his lungs, everywhere inside, until he realized he was hugging Harry so close to his chest he could barely breathe.
He felt he could never let Harry go again.
Finally, Dumbledore took his leave, no closer to getting his way in the matter of Black than before. A victory, perhaps. A pyrrhic one, in that case, given what had happened to give Severus enough ammunition to thwart Albus' plans. But he would take what he could get. When offered only crumbs, he would not refuse them and starve whilst bemoaning the lack of a full loaf.
Severus had been sitting for many hours. Not long after Dumbledore left, he stood to work out a kink in his leg, with Harry still in his arms. He had thought, from Harry's slack mouth and the relaxation of his body, that they boy was asleep, but as soon as Severus stood, his eyes flicked open. Severus started to put him down, but Harry clutched at him still, so he just held Harry close. Harry settled on his hip, his little arms wrapped around his father's shoulder and neck. Eventually Severus would be more firm and insist Harry stand on his own, but if being held helped relax him for now, he would do whatever he could to mute Harry's anxiety.
'Daddy?' Harry whispered. He'd barely spoken above that level since he had been rescued.
'Yes, Harry?' Severus replied gently. He did everything gently the last two days.
